


Difference

by Azumaru



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: AU where MC does not join the RFA, Drug Use, Fluff and Angst, M/M, RFA Shenanigans, technically dubcon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-06-01 10:31:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15141200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azumaru/pseuds/Azumaru
Summary: Yoosung's always been alone. Alone when he plays LOLOL, when he sits in class, hell, even when he stays up for hours waiting for someone to log in to the RFA chat.When Saeran comes and gives him the time of day, he'll do anything to keep him in his life...Anything.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'll be updating the rating and tags as the story progresses, when I change them please keep them in mind! Also, please leave feedback, I love hearing what people think. I didn't intend for this to be a Yooran work, but after careful consideration I was persuaded.
> 
> Enjoy! \ o v o /
> 
> (Also this chapter feels really short to me and I apologize so much it gets better I promise OTL)

**[Yoosung has entered the chat room.]**

**[ZEN has entered the chat room.]**

**[707 has entered the chat room.]**

 

 

 **Yoosung** : I’m glad someone’s here!

 

 **Yoosung** : I’m really excited!

 

 **ZEN** : Did you pass your test?

 

 **Yoosung** : Ugh…I don’t wanna think about that…

 

 **Yoosung** : T_T

 

 **Yoosung** : No, we have a new kid in my class!

 

 **707** : Oh ho ho!

 

 **Yoosung** : Pls don’t

 

Seven was probably digging for files already. Yoosung fidgeted in his seat, grateful that class was starting soon so he wouldn’t have to focus too hard on looking busy.

 

 **707** : He looks like a cute one!

 

 **Yoosung** : Did you even read T_T

 

 **707** : I did!

 

 **707** : I just

 

**707** :  **Chose to ignore it~**

 

 **Yoosung** : OTL

 

 **Yoosung** : Why do I even bother…

 

 **ZEN** : Don’t you have work to do, Seven?

 

 **ZEN** : And Yoosung…don’t you have classes today?

 

 **Yoosung** : The prof is late

 

 **Yoosung** : I could be studying for the pop quiz…

 

 **Yoosung** : **but** …

 

 **707** : You just missed me! Right? Right???

 

 **ZEN** : Ha, ha.

 

 **Yoosung** : Anyway…

 

 **707** : T_T…

 

 **Yoosung** : Thanks for hearing me out **Zen**.

 

 **ZEN** : No worries. ^^

 

 **Yoosung** : I hope he’s not too lonely.

 

 **Yoosung** : He keeps fiddling with a pencil

 

 **Yoosung** : and he flinches every time someone walks past.

 

 **Yoosung** : It’s so sad…

 

 **Yoosung** : proufjustwwatehrelke

 

The door to the classroom opened, and he fumbled his phone to stuff it under his leg. The humdrum of conversation died down, replaced with the sound of shifting papers and textbooks flipping open. The greetings rolled by easily, but no mention of the newbie sitting as close to the wall as possible. Yoosung couldn’t help but try to take in his appearance. His hair was pretty cool, he’d never seen someone with white hair. Was that a sketchbook in front of him…? He couldn’t make out what it was from his side of the room. He tried his best to turn his attention to the professor, who had already started in on a lecture. Psychology always made his brain swim…he tried his best to scribble down everything on the whiteboard into his notes, hoping that later it would make sense. Maybe he could get Seven to decode it for him later.

 

Class droned on, he tried to focus the best he could, but with how little sleep he got from marathoning LOLOL last night, he was proud that his eyes stayed awake for most of the lecture.

 

“So find a partner and get to work. You have one month to have a final presentation and I expect _all_ of you to finish on time.” The professor scanned the room with a stern look. “You are dismissed.” At once, the sea of students rippled with activity and Yoosung was struck with a pang of regret that he’d missed what the project was even about. He had a month to…but he didn’t know anybody, and knowing his classmates they’d just gravitate toward whoever they were friends with.

 

He wished he had friends here. He slumped in his seat for a few more moments, allowing himself to wallow before slipping the books and papers from his desk into his bag. He wanted to check the RFA chat room again, but he’d wait til he got home. Seven was probably busy teasing him about the last message he sent, and maybe V had finally showed his head for two seconds before vanishing for another couple of weeks. Whatever. He heaved a sigh and stood, only to collide with a mass and fall with a startled squeak right back into the chair. He gave a groan as his ass throbbed where bone collided with the hard surface, quickly realizing that it was a person he’d smacked.

 

“I’m so sorry! Are you o—” Words died in his throat as he looked up, his gaze locking with piercing green eyes above him, studying him. He tried again. “A-are you okay? I didn’t hurt you did I?”

 

Yoosung noticed the rest of the boy’s features. _This is…!_

 

“I’m fine.” The other mumbled, rubbing his shoulder and shifting his weight back and forth. “Do you…have a partner.”

 

“A what now?” Yoosung blinked.

 

“For the project…” He brushed aside a few stray strands of white hair, biting his lower lip. “I don’t…know anybody here. I’m new.”

 

“I know.” He blurted, clapping his hands over his mouth, regretting it immediately as hurt flashed across those pretty mint eyes. “Th-that’s not what I meant! I’m sorry! I just…I noticed you this morning and—and I! Uh.” He stopped, shaking his head. Time to try again. He took a breath. “Hi, I’m Yoosung. I don’t have a partner for this project.” He held out his hand with a small smile, nerves makes his cheeks burn. “Do you want to partner up for it?”

 

The stranger paused, a quiet chuckle under his breath. He took Yoosung’s hand and shook it.

 

“Nice to meet you, Yoosung. I look forward to working with you.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mistakes were made.

Yoosung’s finger hovered over Saeran’s contact in his phone, he swallowed hard. _Just man up and text him already! It’s not like he asked you out. You don’t even like men!_ He scolded himself and pulled up a blank text. It’s been so long since he’s talked to someone outside of the RFA, save a classmate or his parents. How does he even start a conversation? He can’t just write ‘lol hi’ or send an emoji like he does in the RFA chat…

 

 **Yoosung** : Hi! It’s Yoosung!

 

He sent it before he could allow himself to hesitate. He settled back into his computer chair, phone sitting next to his computer as he waited for LOLOL to update. After classes, he’d crashed for a few hours at home and woken up refreshed. He was so ready to hit the raid hard with his guild! His phone screen lit up and chimed. Saeran replied already? He didn’t want to admit it…but he was surprised that the other boy replied at all. The conversation between them repeated over and over in his mind, and the pained look on Saeran’s face still haunted him. He wanted to make it up to him.

 

 **Saeran** : hey

 

Well…it was better than no response.

 

 **Yoosung** : Can I ask you something?

 

The LOLOL client dinged, the “Ready” button flashed and called to him. He clicked in and moved his headphones up to his ears. It wasn’t too late in the evening, he’d check for a reply after this round.

 

 _Yoosung Kim is an absolute goddamned idiot_ , he kicked himself once he noticed the in-game clock flashing close to 4AM. Did he really just lose himself _again_ even after vowing to at least sleep more than a few hours? Saeran must think he’s ignoring him on purpose!

 

 **Saeran:** sure

 

 **Saeran:** You can ask whatever you want, I don’t mind.

 

 **Saeran:** sorry

 

He wasn’t sure Saeran even thought he should be sorry for. His heart sank to the pit of his stomach. He finally talked to a classmate and he completely drops the ball…maybe this was life’s way of telling him he should give up on having friends, _especially_ a girlfriend at this rate. He groaned and pulled his headphones off, letting them flop onto his keyboard. 

 

 **Yoosung** : I’m so sorry!

 

 **Yoosung** : I got caught up in this game I play all the time called LOLOL and matches take forever and I didn’t mean to ignore you I’m really sorry I hope you didn’t think I was ignoring you!!!

 

It wasn’t worth much at this point, but Saeran at least deserved a reply. He set his phone down and groaned in frustration, rubbing his tired eyes with the palms of his hands before clicking Shut Down on his computer.

 

“Why are you like this?” He grumbled to himself, leaning back and finding a small bit of comfort in the way his back popped hard after hours of being stiff and hunched over. The room spun and he couldn’t bring himself to dredge up a coherent thought outside of anything LOLOL related. Not that he was going to admit he had a problem, but…

 

His phone dinged and he lunged for it, heaving a sigh when he noticed it was just the RFA messenger going off. Yoosung swung himself around and stood from his chair, taking a few steps and flopping face first into his bed. He buried his face into his favorite blanket, reveling at the too-soft fabric’s gentle brush on his skin. It didn’t completely get rid of the guilt weighing on him from every side…but it helped a little. His fist curled into the fabric and he rolled to the side, cocooning himself. It was comforting, to have that familiar pressure all around him. Almost like he was being held…He closed his eyes and nestled into it. He could talk to Saeran tomorrow, figure this out, and then maybe ask what the heck the project was even about.

 

 

 

Light hit his face in an unforgiving stream, almost laser-focused to his eyelids. He groaned and rolled away from the source. With the sun that bright, he might think it’s almost noon.

 

The sun would have to be in the sky for it to be noon.

 

With a jolt, he flailed out of the blankets and scrambled for wherever the hell he left his phone. A sharp _clack_ on his floor grabbed his attention and he dove for the device, glancing the screen over for cracks before clicking it on.

 

It was almost 1PM! He’d missed half his classes already! He didn’t bother checking the numerous notifications on his screen, finding clothes that smelled clean and throwing them on. Eat? He didn’t have time for food. Something nagged at the back of his mind, something he must have been forgetting. But what was it? The closer he got to his door, the more the feeling amplified. Sure he looked like a disheveled mess, but at least his body would be present for at least part of a lecture!

 

His pocket rumbled. He stopped his desperate flailing for a moment to check his phone. Why would Saeran be calling him? Maybe he didn’t want to be partners with such a flake. He heaved a sigh and accepted the call.

 

“Uhm, hi.” He greeted, wincing at how breathy he sounded. His heart thrummed in his ears, mind whirling with every potential disappointment.

 

“Hey.” The voice on the other end was quiet, startled. Was he not expecting Yoosung to answer? “Um. Listen, if you changed your mind—”

 

“No!” He blurted, slapping his hand over his mouth almost immediately. “S-sorry. I just…I’m sorry. Can we talk in person after classes are done?”

 

“Classes?”

 

“Yeah, I screwed up and I’m really late—“

 

“But it’s Saturday?” Yoosung blinked. He held the phone in front of his face, the screen lighting up and proudly displaying the date as Saturday. _Saturday_.

 

“Saturday.” He groaned, flopping into his computer chair. “Yeah, it’s Saturday. God…” He dragged his palm across his face. _Wake up, Yoosung. Get your mushy brain out of LOLOL for two seconds and pay attention to the real world. This is why you don’t have a girlfriend._

 

“If it’s a bad time, I can call back.”

 

“O-oh! Ah, no, I don’t usually have anything going on on the weekends… Would you want to meet up and talk about our project?”

 

He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but he could have sworn he heard a smile through the phone. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll text you the address.”

 

*

 

Yoosung found himself trudging across campus. He wasn’t too surprised that they both lived very near the university; in fact, he rather liked the small distance between them. If Saeran actually wanted to be friends, he didn’t have to travel far to see him. He was more than alright with that.

 

He rapped his knuckles on the door Saeran’s text pointed him to, rocking on the balls of his feet. He’d never been in an apartment on the very top floor! He wondered if the sky was easier to see now that the trees were practically eye level or slightly beneath the windows. Were storms scarier?

 

A very unkempt Saeran poked his head between the door that opened just a bit, hair sticking out every which way and disheveled clothes that Yoosung could have sworn he’d seen the boy in yesterday. Did he sleep in his clothes? He couldn’t blame him, he did the same thing at least twice a week. Not like anyone noticed, he hoped.

 

“Afternoon.” Saeran mumbled. He opened the door and waved Yoosung inside.

 

“Hi! Thanks for having me.” Yoosung greeted him back with a wave and stopped a few steps in, any further comment coming to a screeching halt in his mind as he drank in the sight before him. It wasn’t too large of an apartment by any means, but the decorations astounded him. Tribal eye paintings stared right through his soul from every wall at least somewhere, in the same eerie mint green a little deeper than Saeran’s eyes. The paintings that weren’t eyes were absolutely _gorgeous_. Saeran must have a thing for flowers, he thought, not understanding how any human could have painted what looked like a _photograph_. Liquor bottles lined the top of the fridge and various areas around the kitchen, did he even drink that much? Chandeliers hung from the ceiling instead of regular lights, casting a crystalline sparkle that danced on everything the light touched. This apartment made his own home look like a pathetic little cave, how much did it even cost—

 

“Earth to Yoosung.” Saeran chuckled and padded to the very plushy couch across the room, dropping into it and smiling as he sank a little into the cushions. “I take it my home fascinates you? You can come in, it won’t bite.”

 

Yoosung swallowed hard and nodded, remembering to move his legs mechanically and join Saeran on the other end of his sofa. The material seemed to embrace every part of him that it touched and pull him deeper, he could fall asleep right here and have the best sleep of his life, he was sure. He toyed with the hem of his shirt, nerves getting the best of him. He hoped Saeran didn’t think he was too weird.

 

“Something on your mind?” Yoosung looked up and met Saeran’s gaze, relaxing just a bit when he remembered they were both social messes and interacting with other people didn’t seem to be their strong suits. He didn’t feel so lame.

 

“Yeah…Sorry again for not responding to you.”

 

Saeran waved him off. “Don’t worry about it. At least you got back to me at all, yeah?”

 

“I suppose…”

 

“So what’s the big question?” Oh! He almost forgot. He sat up straighter than he was, trying to fight the sofa to stay upright instead of sinking back into the slump.

 

“Umm yeah…Don’t laugh, but I. Uh. I don’t actually know what our project is…I totally spaced out.” He rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks heating up when Saeran actually burst into a laughing fit and doubled over. “H-hey! I didn’t mean to!” He whined, feeling a little relieved that Saeran wasn’t actually mad at him for his goof last night.

 

He took a few minutes to regain his breath, wiping a tear from his eye. “No offense, Yoosung, but you’re adorable.” Was that supposed to be a compliment or a lighthearted insult? He’d only been called adorable a few times by Seven, but he was always teasing. “Our assignment is free reign, we need to find a topic to study and then make a report on it.”

 

“A topic…? What kind of topic?” Yoosung fidgeted. Psychology wasn’t too much of his strong suit, he was tired of hearing about it after Rika…He shook his head. No use clouding his mind right now. Focus.

 

“Anything that alters the mind or deviates from the norm. Mental illness, drugs, relationships, sleep deprivation, alcohol, you name it and it’s probably valid for our topic.”

 

“Oh.” Yoosung rubbed his chin in thought. “So…did you have any ideas?”

 

“I’m not sure. I’m pretty fucked up so I have a lot of things I could go off of, but…I’m not sure what you’re interested in learning about. It’s just an excuse to make us study on our own time, really.” Saeran leaned away from Yoosung, resting the side of his face on the arm of the sofa. He looked so tired, Yoosung felt almost bad for him. Was he waiting up all night for him to reply…? The thought churned out some guilt, dribbling into his stomach and giving it a squeeze. Wait…no, that was hunger. The ‘fucked up’ comment bothered Yoosung, he wanted to find out more, but it was way too early to dig deep. They’d only met yesterday, he didn’t want to scare off a potential friend.

 

“Why don’t we grab some food and think it over? I think better on a full stomach.” He offered. “My treat, whatever you want.” _As an apology_ , he wanted to add.

 

Saeran shot him a grin. “Sounds good to me.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoosung and Saeran find a topic for their project over pizza.

Yoosung’s not quite used to American food, it’s a little different and sometimes the flavors don’t match up with his tastes. But the second Saeran had brought up this little pizza buffet joint down the road within walking distance, he’d been mildly intrigued. Why was Saeran so eager to go to this place? Maybe he ate here a lot.

 

Or maybe it was the yearning looks he shot at the ice cream machine as they walked along the food bars. Yeah, he had a feeling this guy had a sweet tooth.

 

“So…you like sweets?” Yoosung broke the comfortable silence between them after they’d settled into a booth. Saeran merely quirked an eyebrow, face too full of pizza to really answer right away. He swallowed eventually, giving a shrug.

 

“Kinda. Mostly ice cream, though.” He picked a mushroom off a piece on his plate and popped it into his mouth.

 

“Gotcha…” Yoosung leaned back in his seat and idly chewed away at the food in his hand. He wished he wasn’t so bad at conversation outside of a screen. Even he and Seven, best friends as they were, usually fell into silence after a few minutes of banter. They could hang out in the messenger for hours and go back and forth, why was this any different? Was it because he was too used to the isolation? No, no, he didn’t feel lonely. Just awkward. He wondered if anyone noticed he hadn’t bothered with the messenger for a hot minute. Probably not, if he were being honest with himself. Besides Seven teasing him, Zen was the only one who might. Even then, Zen was too far up his own ass with selfies and dramatics that he rarely noticed much else outside of his vanity bubble.

 

“You’re thinking too much.” A voice broke him out of his musing.

 

“Oh, sorry..was I that obvious?” He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand and weakly smiled like he was caught redhanded.

 

“Yeah.” He paused. “Is there something bothering you…?” There was a note of hesitance in his voice, as if he didn’t really want to tread into deep territory yet. It’s only been a few days, but Yoosung didn’t mind opening up just a little if he’d actually bothered to spend time with him.

 

“I…yeah, kinda. I have this group of friends, they’re really cool but I don’t think I’m important to them. They just kinda go on without me and when I talk to them they treat me like I’m some baby that doesn’t know how the world works.”

 

Saeran nodded, pushing aside his finished plate. “Sounds annoying. Have you told them?”

 

“I can’t. That’d be mean, and outside of a few people that only talk to me in class or online, I don’t…really have any friends.” He slumped in his seat, dejected. He sounded pathetic when he said it out loud. This was embarrassing. “I’m not really that interesting, so I don’t have much to say.” Movement caught his eye, he blinked and watched Saeran lean forward, arms on the table, eyes locked on his. Heat rushed to Yoosung’s face, this was a little too intense for his liking. “Uh—”

 

“We can be friends. We can get to know each other as we work on this project. We can spend a lot of time together.” Yoosung couldn’t look away. He was very forward, sincere. It warmed Yoosung’s heart that someone actually wanted to talk to him.

 

“Okay, yeah! We can.” His face lit up, violet eyes gleaming under the haze of tired. “It’ll be fun! Though…about the project.” The light from his eyes dimmed as quick as it had come. His new friend quirked a brow at the sudden change. “Do you have any ideas? I’m kind of stumped…” He didn’t have the first clue about any of this, he was usually content to snooze right through lecture. Did Saeran even know that he napped through the majority of his classes? He hoped not. He was new, so maybe this was a good start to turning over a new leaf. Maybe he could find it in him to care about classes if he had a friend willing to study with him instead of teasing him.

 

“I’ve had a few…but surely there isn’t anything you’ve ever wondered about?” Was Saeran just trying to prompt him? Those eyes weren’t leaving his, he felt like he was under a spotlight in an interrogation room. There were no incorrect answers but silence. Think, Yoosung, think.

 

“Um…I kind of wondered about. You know. Uh.” He fidgeted, racking his brain for anything that even remotely resembled an idea. “Drugs!” He blurted out, clapping hands over his mouth the second the word left his lips.

 

Saeran didn’t move. “Drugs, hm? What about them?”

 

“W-well….you know…how they change how the brain works. You see them all the time in movies, it’s almost like you can become a completely different person when you take them. Or something.” Okay, yeah, that sounds viable. Saeran leaned back in his seat and furrowed his brow, now looking at his plate with a neutral expression. The quiet stretched before them, but Yoosung couldn’t tell if it was awkward or just relaxed and he was worrying too much.

 

“Have you ever taken drugs?” Saeran said slowly.

 

Yoosung didn’t miss a beat. “Nope. Sometimes I drink, but I do my best to stay away from them.”

 

“How come?”

 

He blinked. “How come what?”

 

“How come you don’t take drugs?”

 

Yoosung had to stop and think for a moment. Why would that even be a question? “Because they’re bad for you?” He started slowly. “They mess with your brain and make it hard to think right. And then you gotta worry about what it does to your body, addiction, uhh…” That should cover everything, right? But why was Saeran being so quiet? He couldn’t read his face, so he couldn’t know what he was thinking… There was no way someone as put together as Saeran would even bother with drugs…right? The silence stretched out between them. Yoosung shifted uncomfortably, tempted to get up and find something else to eat to distract himself.

 

“Okay.” Saeran stated, standing from his seat. Yoosung jumped up in surprise, his brain taking a few moments to catch up with what was happening. “So we’ll start with that and go from there.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah.” Saeran’s pocket dinged, he fished out the phone from his pocket and squinted at it before stuffing it back where it came from. “Ah, hey. I have something to take care of. Text me? We’ll meet up again soon.”

 

“Sure thing!” Saeran shot him a small smile over his shoulder, already headed for the exit. Yoosung didn’t bother fighting the grin that invaded his face as he started to make his way to the door. He was overcome with giddiness, for this friendship. He hadn’t felt this way in years, not after…it was best not to think about it.

 

Yoosung went home and actually paged through his homework, finishing up most of it before clicking back to play a few rounds of LOLOL with his guild. His mood was brighter than it’d been in months, everyone noticed. He’d even popped by the RFA chat to see who was lurking about. They wondered where he was, Seven teased him about this and that…it didn’t phase him. He left a few messages that had him bouncing his leg with excitement, he’d made a friend in class and they were already hanging out to work on assignments.

 

Though…when he typed out Saeran’s name, something made him click back and made the text more vague. No name, no description. He chalked it up to not wanting his hacker friend snooping into his personal life for teasing ammunition, logged off, and returned to defend his guildmates from a rare boss. Nothing was going to spoil his mood. Not if he could help it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoosung just can't get a break, can he?

Yoosung’s phone buzzed next to his ear and it took 110% of his willpower not to chuck it away. He unlocked it and reluctantly slid an eye open, a despaired whine leaving his throat when the clock read Too Early For This. Well…6AM, same thing. Who the hell was even bothering with the RFA chat at this hour?

 

Seven. Fucking Seven, of all people.

 

**[707 has entered the chat room.]**

**[Yoosung has entered the chat room.]**

 

**707** : Cutie Yoosung! Isn’t it past your bedtime?

 

**Yoosung** : why did you ping my phone

 

**Yoosung** : I was actually sleeping this time!

 

**707** : I wanted to see if you were awake~

 

**Yoosung** : im going back to sleep

 

**707** : WAIT

 

Yoosung groaned and pulled the covers over his head, the warmth soothing his wrath just a bit and replacing it with sleepiness. Thankfully the screen was dim and didn’t burn his eyes.

 

**Yoosung** : what.

 

**707** : I heard you made a friend!

 

**707** : You haven’t told me a thing about it!

 

**707** : I’m hurt, Yoosungie! Betrayed!

 

**707** : God Seven has fallen into despair,

 

**707** : and not even his precious Elly can heal this wound!

 

**[Jumin Han has entered the chat room.]**

 

**Jumin Han** : Luciel.

 

**Jumin Han** : Need I repeat myself?

 

**[Jumin Han has left the chat room.]**

 

**707** : ;;;;;;

 

At this point, he started to drift back to dreamland. The messenger beeped at him with yet another message. _Of course_.

 

**707** : So what’s she like?

 

**Yoosung** : he

 

**707** : So what’s he like?

 

**Yoosung** : polite. listens well.

 

He knew he was being a little too snappy, but dammit, he was tired and very not in the mood for his friend’s shenanigans.

 

**Yoosung** : ask me when i’m conscious

 

**707** : Protective, hmmmmm?

 

**707** : What’s his name?

 

**707** : Does he have a job?

 

**707** : What classes does he take?

 

**707** : His major?

 

**Yoosung** : seven.

 

**707** : Does he have a girlfriend?

 

**707** : Yesss?

 

**Yoosung** : if i agree to tell you later

 

**Yoosung:Will you promise not to interrogate me like you are now?**

 

**Yoosung** : I haven’t even known him more than a couple days, Seven.

 

**707** : Sorry…

 

**707** : Must be the all-nighter getting to me.

 

**707** : Rest up. We’ll talk later.

 

**[707 has left the chat room.]**

 

Well, that was a sudden tune change. He felt bad and logged out, burrowing his face under his pillow and welcoming the added layer of darkness. He was sure Seven was just curious, probably excited that he’d even spoken to someone in college enough to consider them a friend. The whole “ _baby Yoosung is finally growing up!”_ spiel was getting old, though. He wasn’t a baby! He could take care of himself. He could cook. He could…think about this after a nap…

 

Yoosung jerked awake when his phone started ringing. He let out an annoyed sound before practically slapping it to his ear.

 

“Yeahwhat,” he grumped, not bothering to lift his mouth from the mattress. Whoever was waking him up didn’t deserve to hear him clearly.

 

“Oh, did I wake you? Sorry.” It took a few moments to register the voice on the speaker. The irritation ebbed and gave way to a grumpy calm. He rolled to his side, un-stuffing his face from the mattress.

 

“No no, it’s fine, sorry. I just.” He sighed, rubbing his eyes with his free hand. Thank god it was still dark under his covers. “I have a hard time sleeping in nowadays.” _No thanks to some people_. “What’s up, Saeran?” Oof, he sounded like death.

 

“Not too much. Wanted to know if you were free this evening to talk more.” Maybe it was just the sleepiness talking, but it almost sounded like Saeran was amused.

 

“Yeah, sure.” He tried to sit up and leaned against the wall for support. “I never really have plans, anyway.”

 

“No?” Was that surprise? “You don’t have club activities or groups you do things with?”

 

Yoosung made an uncomfortable noise and tapered off with a heavy sigh. “No, I never stay in clubs for long and groups require, uh. Friends.” Another blatant reminder of how alone he was. “Usually I just stay home and play LOLOL with my guildmates.”

 

Saeran hummed. He felt a little better hearing him take a few seconds to reply, rather than a quick scolding for not having friends. “I don’t really have a lot of friends either.”

 

“R-really?” Yoosung stuttered in surprise. Saeran seemed like a very cool and collected guy…if nothing else, someone that’s had a lot of girlfriends. Cool mysterious guys usually had tons of friends, right? “Don’t you feel lonely?” he blurted out, slapping his hand over his mouth a second too late. “I’m sorry, ugh, that came out wrong—”

 

“Nope.” Saeran cut off his rambling so fast that his brain had to take a second to catch up. He wasn’t sure how to even respond. The moment stretched on between them, toeing the line between uncomfortable and awkward. Definitely awkward.

 

“Okay,” he said smartly. No response. He couldn’t hear anything on the other end. Yoosung distantly wondered if Saeran had just hung up. He checked the screen. Nope, still ongoing.

 

“So,” Saeran’s voice hummed over the static of movement in the background, “I’ll text you when I’m ready tonight?” What was this guy’s communication skill level, and where can he grind for experience to improve his own? Yoosung would have hung up on himself at least five minutes ago.

 

“Yeah, for sure! I’ll be waiting.” They said their goodbyes and the call ended. Yoosung felt himself smile just a little bit, even if it was just on the inside. Today was going to be a good day, he could feel it.

 

*

 

_Today was an absolute shit show_ , Yoosung repeated in his head like a stubborn mantra as he flipped the cap off his fourth bottle of whatever the hell was left in his fridge. His body was comfortably warm without the aid of clothes save his boxers, and he wasn’t sure where he’d even thrown his pants—not like it mattered. He wasn’t going anywhere. Saeran hadn’t texted him back all day when he’d asked how his day was going, if he’d eaten, if they were still on for tonight. That’s fine, maybe his phone died. _Can’t Seven’s phone die and save me the hassle before he teases me?_ he grumped and sank lower into his computer chair, LOLOL’s login page returning his blank stare. His brain had started to spin just a bit, the alcohol in his system making quick work of his sobriety when he’d forgotten to eat a few rounds in.

 

He wanted to call someone to whine, but nobody would listen to the drunk baby of the RFA. Zen would mother him to death, Seven would mock him and probably make him do something embarrassing to tease him about in the morning, Jaehee and Jumin never bothered with him more than necessary. Like hell if he’d bother Saeran with his stupid problems. “Wah, I’m lonely, I want a girlfriend. Grow the fuck up,” he mumbled to himself, paging through his phone and blatantly ignoring every text that popped up on his screen. He took a swig of his drink. “Nobody wants to date a friendless college flunkie.” Leave it to Seven to “be concerned” about his barely-passing grades. Who did he think he was, his mother? No, he already had a mother to disappoint, thanks. It’s not even 9PM and he’s already fairly drunk. She’d be _so_ proud. At least alcohol was there for him when nobody else was. Which was…alarmingly frequent. Not like it mattered. His life wasn’t going anywhere.

 

He’d just found a Tripter status that gave him half a laugh when his phone started vibrating with a call. _God_ , can he just be left alone right now? He slapped the phone to his ear.

 

“Yoosung Kim speakin’, leave yer name ’n number and I’ll call back when I g-give a shit,” he slurred out. It was probably fucking Seven again, the fourth fucking time tonight he’d tried to give him a speech or an apology or an invitation, and what? Was he trying to come over now?

 

“Yoosung?” The voice sounded surprised. It was masculine. Not Seven, but other than that he was too drunk to care who it was.

 

“Yah, ’s me.…” He gave himself a mental pat on the back for keeping his temper out of his voice. “Whaddya want?”

 

“Er…is this a bad time?” They sounded hesitant.

 

“Nope!” Yoosung popped the last ‘p’ and leaned back in his chair.

 

“Are you going to bed soon?” the voice asked, a little slower.

 

“Huh-uh!” He nodded to himself. Good conversation. Whoever called him must not have anything else to say. Maybe they hung up and he just missed the beep? He sneaked a glance at his phone.

 

A cold stone dropped into the pit of his stomach. ‘Saeran’ was written across the screen in big bright letters. It might as well have said ‘you’re a flaming moron.’

 

“S-Saeran I’m so sorry. Oh my god.” He slapped his palm to his forehead. _Idiot_. Regret raced through him. Saeran said to _wait for him_ , just a simple instruction and even then he managed to fuck it up. He wouldn’t blame Saeran if he changed project partners and never bothered with him again. He prepared to just end the call and wallow in his own wet shame.

 

“Do you still want me to come over tonight?” Yoosung squinted off into the distance as if it helped his train of thought. _Did he?_ Most importantly…when did Saeran say he wanted to come over? He only mentioned talking, unless the alcohol made him forget…which was likely. Did Saeran even know where he lived?

 

“Uhh sure?”

 

His phone beeped at him, signaling the end of the call. Yoosung just frowned and set his phone on his desk. What was that all about? He hoisted himself from the chair to search for a semi-clean shirt, rifling through a small pile at the foot of his bed. Did he want to wear the one with the floral print on it? Or what about this one, the shirt that Seven got him for his—no, fuck that guy. He chucked it into a corner and barely managed to tug his head into the flower shirt before a few hard knocks at his door startled him.

 

“C-coming! One moment! Uh!” he tried calling. Practically falling into the wall next to him before regaining his balance, he hobbled to the door and peeked through the peephole. Yup. Definitely Saeran. He unlocked the door and opened it.

 

“Sorry I called so late, I—”

 

And then the breeze hit his legs. His eyes widened as warning alarms blared in his mind.

 

Yoosung slammed the door shut and cut off Saeran mid-apology. Shit, shit, shit! He did _not_ need to see him in his boxers! Calling a quick “sorry!” out before finding some shorts to tug on, he took a shaky breath and opened the door again. Saeran looked nothing short of bewildered, a wave of regret overtaking Yoosung. Oops. Saeran didn’t seem to mind too much, slipping past Yoosung and dropping a bag on his bed before sitting with crossed legs. He looked a little more put together than Yoosung, dressed in simple slacks and a shirt with an upward pointed arrow saying “eyes up here.” He wasn’t sure he knew what it meant.

 

“Long day?”

 

Yoosung just groaned and sank back into his computer chair, swiveling to face him. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

 

“You sound like you want to.” Saeran tented his fingers. “I’m listening.”

 

“Didn’t you want to work on our project first, though?” Yoosung shifted in his seat. The alcohol running through him didn’t damage his filter too much, thank god.

 

“It can wait.”

 

Yoosung closed his eyes and sighed heavily. It felt…really nice to have someone ask him how he felt instead of telling him how he _should_ feel. He started opening the dam little by little, telling him of this group of friends he had that he trusted—well, except for one person. One of his best friends was constantly teasing and pranking him, and it wouldn’t be so bad except he did it _all the fucking time_ and just laughed it off if his feelings got legitimately hurt. How the others didn’t treat him anything above a child that needed his hand held. It didn’t matter to them when he despaired over the loss of the one he revered most in this world, he just needed to ‘get the hell over it’ no matter how alone or lost he felt. One tried to mother him, and if he heard that Yoosung was drunk, well, all hell would break loose and he’s pretty sure he’d try to get him to come over so he could ‘talk about his feelings’ which would get straight back to his asshole excuse of a best friend he already _had_ a mother thank you very much, and he’d never hear the end of it, why can’t they just give him a break, he’s not a fucking _child_ for Christ’s sake nobody listened not even his ‘best friend’ and—

 

“I’m listening.” Saeran interrupted quietly. Yoosung stopped his ramble immediately, staring at him with wide violet eyes. Had he scooted closer to Saeran at some point? Their legs were almost touching. He wanted to roll away, he didn’t want to make things uncomfortable.

 

Saeran’s hands rested on his knees. Yoosung swallowed hard, the heat in his cheeks rising from something other than the booze that he couldn’t quite figure out the name for. He blamed it on the alcohol anyway.

 

“You are listening,” the blond whispered. Just vocalizing it made his heart stutter. Was it getting warmer in here? Saeran leaned closer, a peculiar look on his face when Yoosung leaned back into his chair. Being too close to him wasn’t uncomfortable, it felt…really nice, actually. He needed to drink more before he came to terms with whatever the hell this was.

 

“Is there anything more you want to say?” Saeran’s breath ghosted over his lips, his face was close, too close, close enough to—no, he’s not _gay_ or anything, they wouldn’t do any of that. Since when had he gotten this close?

 

“I…yes,” Yoosung mumbled back, transfixed on those pretty mint eyes. His heart was trying to beat right out of his chest.

 

“Then say it.”

 

They should stop this. This was getting weird. It was probably crossing some sort of line, he was drunk, they could talk tomorrow and work on the project when Yoosung was actually sober.

 

“I don’t know…what I even want to say,” he found himself muttering instead. His fingers tensed and relaxed. He wasn’t sure what to do with himself.

 

“Then don’t say it.”

 

Yoosung blinked, tilting his head. His question promptly died on his lips when Saeran’s connected with his own, he felt pure electricity surge through him. He squeezed his eyes shut and leaned into the kiss. This. This was his first kiss. It didn’t bother him as much as he thought it would, but…Saeran? Was he even interested in Yoosung? Why this? Why now? His brain spun with questions, though he preferred to sit in the eye of it all, the calm that was Saeran, where he didn’t have to think so hard. Saeran’s hand was on his cheek; it tingled where their skin connected.

 

After an agonizingly long moment, Saeran pulled away to sit back on the bed. A whine bubbled in Yoosung’s throat, and all he could do was raise a few fingers to his lips that still buzzed.

 

“Need something to drink?” Saeran had grabbed his bag and was rifling through it. He produced a few shot glasses and a bottle so dark he couldn’t even see the liquid inside, let alone its color.

 

“Please.” He fidgeted with the end of his own shirt, brain short circuiting. Saeran poured two shots and handed Yoosung one before setting the bottle on the nightstand. Yoosung didn’t bother to look at the liquid before knocking it back, a pleasant burning settled into the pit of his belly. His mind slowly went blank, a soft smile crossing his face at the welcome quiet from his thoughts. Though…Saeran was studying him intently. Was he watching to see how he acted completely plastered? What did he think he would see?

 

Yoosung squirmed. Heat raced through him, but it was getting a little too hot to handle. Was it some new sort of drink made with hot peppers? He should have asked what it was, but…he trusted Saeran. Saeran wouldn’t hurt him. Plus, he drank it too! His heart wouldn’t stop beating frantically, he was pretty sure he was gonna sweat if he wasn’t already. He didn’t remember cranking up the thermostat, what was going on? He couldn’t find it in himself to panic, his brain was oddly calm still.

 

“Saeran,” he breathed, every breath more of a huff and gasp like he couldn’t get enough oxygen. “Saeran it’s really hard to—”

 

“I know. Do you want more?” Saeran was already pouring another shot, but hesitated at the second glass. He set the filled shot next to the empty one, stepped closer to Yoosung.

 

_No_. “Yeah, yes. Yes.” His throat felt like the Sahara, like he’d shrivel and combust if he didn’t get another drop of whatever the hell that was inside him right this instant. The bottle met his mouth and he gulped the drink down greedily, sucking in a few generous swallows before the source was pulled away. He started to protest but was quickly silenced when Saeran crushed their faces together in another kiss.

 

Time started to blur in a haze of bliss and sighs. Eventually, they wound up on Yoosung’s bed, lying on their sides tangled up in each other. Yoosung’s brain was quiet, save for a small pop and crackle here and there that he might have felt physically. He wasn’t sure, and he didn’t care. He was in the best mood he’d ever been in in his life, too happy to remember why he was sad. Even with the inferno washing over his body and lightning skittering over his skin, nothing could wipe the broad smile from his face.

 

_I wish I could stay here forever_ , he whispered from the back of his mind as he pulled Saeran closer.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like what I do, scream at me on Tumblr!
> 
> https://azumaruru.tumblr.com/


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